It’s the Holiday Boar!

[goingtobeunwell]

The snow is oddly soft underfoot for it being so damned cold. Crozier idly wonders if this means something (or someone) is coming, but he doesn’t allow himself to dwell on what could be for too long. Quality of life at this point is more important than speculation; they wouldn’t be able to live if they spent all their time worrying.

His boots sink into the snow as he heads up a short incline towards some trees he’d been attempting to tap. The spouts are rudimentary, the collection method haphazard as he tries to figure out this new little project of his, but he’s hopeful that one day he’ll produce some syrup and resin and the effort will have been worth it.

He hears a soft snort coming from up ahead, too soft to be a wolf or bear and too loud to be a domesticated pup, and freezes in place while he tries to figure out what the hell is approaching now. Thankfully he doesn’t wait long enough to work himself up into a panic, because out from the brush comes the boar that magically emerges to give them all gifts. A predictable season oddity, as it were.

Later, trudging back to the cabin with his loot in arm, he smiles with the thought that he’s done well with his request. He can’t wait to show Ram.

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[load_aim_shoot]

Raju hangs the axe back on the side of the woodshed, frowning sourly at his mittens. They're wonderful, of course; he loves them, of course; but by now he ought to be used to the cold. Ought to be, but isn't. This ought to feel normal, but it just feels cold.

Compared to that cold Francis is a welcome sight and Raju lengthens his stride to meet him with a smile, hunching his shoulders in an absent attempt to fight the temperature and trying to rub his fingers together inside the mittens. "Francis," Raju greets him, curious and pleased. "What have you found?"

[goingtobeunwell]

“Ah, Rama!” He’s always cheered by the sight of him, even when he’s so plainly miserable as he does his various chores about the house. He smiles and takes a few big steps forward to bridge the gap between them.

“That boar’s back again.” He doubts he has to specify - what other boar that makes annual visits could be possibly be referring to? “Come, let’s go inside. You look half-frozen.”

[load_aim_shoot]

Raju's smile widens. That means whatever Francis has got must be a gift, or at least something both of them will find useful. That's even more reason to hurry inside than he already had.

"Only half?" Raju starts to lean forward, craning his neck curiously to try and see what it is Francis has, then restrains himself and moves toward the porch to open the front door for Francis. "So, what is it?" he asks eagerly, foot jittering in a vain attempt to keep warm by at least moving something.

[goingtobeunwell]

He laughs at Ram’s eagerness; he’s a bit like a boy on his birthday. “Patience, patience! Let’s get you to the fire. Now that I’ve gotten a good look I think it’s well over half.”

Naturally he’s only teasing, as there’s no possible way to actually conceal the bulky item tucked against his chest. He wants to lay it out and present it in a way that Ram can admire the gift, which is why he heads straight for their kitchen table once inside.

It’s been a while since they’ve properly tidied, but books and papers can be easy swiped aside to make room for the very fine gray and white parka that Crozier lays out. He smiles to himself, pleased at the gift and that the boar actually came through.

“Caribou and seal pelts, same stuff as mine.”

[load_aim_shoot]

For all it'd been badly concealed, Francis laying the thing out takes Raju by surprise. The fire is low, with the both of them out, and the house is cold and the cold hurts still, for all it feels like he ought to be used to it by now. Francis lays the fur, looking beautiful and warm, out on the table and for a moment Raju only stands at the foot of the table and stares at it, looking surprised.

He could say-- no, thank you is too simple. This means a lot to me doesn't communicate what exactly it does mean. "I used to be so jealous of your coat," he murmurs. "Your parka." But that doesn't really say it either.

He's better with action than words anyway, isn't he? He turns to Francis and raises his hands, makes a soft frustrated noise when he sees the mittens on them, and pulls one off with his teeth so he can wrap a hand, red-skinned with cold and still covered in the fingerless gloves he'd been wearing underneath, around the back of Francis' neck. The kiss starts out cold -- his face is cold, his lips are chapped, and Francis' is probably no better -- but Raju is happy, and soon his lips start to warm.